


A Little Fall of Rain

by jack_hunter



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Autistic Spencer Reid, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Secret Relationship, Spencer Reid Whump, Team as Family, dad!Rossi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27538012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jack_hunter/pseuds/jack_hunter
Summary: Morgan crept up behind the doctor and snatched the headphones off of his head, earning a yelp of a protest as he slipped them over his own ears.“Les Mis?” Morgan asked with a quizzical look, “didn’t peg you as the musical type, Pretty Boy.” Spencer snatched the headphones back.“I’ve always loved the theatre and I went to see Les Misérables with-... a friend last Friday.”---Spencer Reid whump with Les Misérables and Aaron Hotchner being the best boyfriend.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid
Comments: 18
Kudos: 280





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to me! As a treat to myself, here is some Spencer Reid whump for everyone to enjoy!

The National Theatre was bustling that evening, as you would expect it to be on a Friday in the middle of summer. It was eleven pm and the doors had opened as that day’s final performance finished, the crowds chattering excitedly with their show programmes in hand. Many had bags filled with merchandise, others were singing to their hearts’ content. In the crowd of thousands, two men strolled down the road away from the theatre, heading eastward. Both dressed smartly, the taller man watched in amusement as the slightly-shorter man - whose hand he held, fingers interlocked - skipped and animatedly rambled on, brightly smiling. 

“- and the flags! They were perfectly synchronised with the beat of the music! Aaron, I’ve never seen something so satisfying! And when they-”

“Spencer,” Hotch interrupted Spencer’s rambling, lightly tugging on their intertwined hands to stop the man from trying to run off, “you had fun, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did!” Spencer replied, his smile not seeming to fade in the slightest as he slowed down just a bit, instead resting his head on Hotch’s shoulder as they walked in step with one another, “thanks for coming to see the show with me. I know the theatre isn’t really your thing…”

“Of course, honey,” Hotch soothed, stopping in the middle of the pavement to look Spencer in the eyes. Spencer briefly flicked his eyes up, averting them almost instantly as he rocked on the balls of his feet, “anything to see you smile like that. And besides, I actually had fun.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Spencer’s forehead, the man seemingly melting as he did so, before his free hand went rummaging around in his pocket. “I got you something.”

“What? No, Aaron, you didn’t have to!” Spencer protested lightly, but Hotch just grinned and reached for Spencer’s left hand. 

“Shush, I wanted to,” he responded, and with ease he slipped his gift onto Spencer’s wrist, pulling on the ends of the braided cord to make the bracelet fit just right. The metal felt cool in the warm summer night, a small plaque no longer than one side of his wrist shining under the streetlights; the simple words “ _ One Day More _ ” reflecting back at him. 

“Oh, wow, Aaron,” Spencer began, running a thumb over the words. 

“I saw it in the gift shop when you were in the bathroom. I thought it was just…  _ you _ .”

Spencer leant in and kissed Hotch on the lips, the older man grinning as he pressed back with as much passion if not more. “I love it,” said Spencer, fingers threading themselves through Hotch’s short hair, “and I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Aaron replied. The two started walking again, heading for home. 

“You know I’m never taking this off, right?” Spencer told him. Hotch let out a laugh and pulled the man in closer. 


	2. Chapter 2

Monday morning came around far too quickly for everyone, but the bullpen of the BAU slowly filled up as agents shuffled around to get their coffee and get started on paperwork. There was just one strange sight that no one was expecting to see. Spencer Reid wearing headphones and humming as he worked. Morgan and Prentiss had both stopped dead in their tracks when they entered, sharing a confused look before calling the genius’ name. Spencer didn’t respond. He couldn’t hear them. Morgan crept up behind the doctor and snatched the headphones off of his head, earning a yelp of a protest as he slipped them over his own ears. 

“ _ Les Mis _ ?” Morgan asked with a quizzical look, “didn’t peg you as the musical type, Pretty Boy.” Spencer snatched the headphones back. 

“I’ve always loved the theatre and I went to see  _ Les Misérables _ with-... a friend last Friday.” Spencer bit his lip and slung his headphones around his neck. No one on the team knew of him and Hotch, having made the decision to keep their relationship a secret from the very start lest it come between their work. The two remained professional at the office and whilst on cases, rarely pairing up in the field to ensure they stayed focused. None of the others seemed to have noticed a thing, despite it having been nearly a year since they started dating. Perhaps they were purposefully being oblivious, choosing to turn a blind eye until the couple were ready. Spencer couldn’t be sure. 

“A  _ friend _ , huh?” Prentiss jabbed with a smirk, plonking herself down on her chair and wheeling to Spencer’s side, “does this  _ friend  _ have a name?”

“Yes, one you will never know,” Spencer commented back, turning back to his work in an attempt to hide the blush forming on his cheeks. 

“Come on, kid, tell us who she is,” Morgan nagged. Spencer ignored him, trying not to smirk at how clueless he was. Spencer reached forward to grab a pencil and Emily all but grabbed his wrist,  _ oohing  _ at the bracelet that had peeked out from under his shirt sleeve. 

“That is gorgeous,” she said. Spencer politely snatched his arm back, rubbing the metal plaque with his thumb, “your friend give you that?” Spencer nodded, “she has good taste.”

Emily and Derek went back to their desks and chose to finally leave Spencer alone, and holding back a sigh the younger agent slipped his headphones back on. The familiar words of “ _ Will you join in our crusade? Who will be strong and stand with me? _ ” played in his ears, volume up an almost deafeningly loud. It felt like he was back at the theatre, his hand in Hotch’s, music echoing around the room. 

For two months it continued like that. Every morning, Spencer would be found with his headphones on in the bullpen, the same songs on repeat. On the jet home, instead of reading he would listen to music. Sometimes he would hum along, other times he would be reading the original French version of the  _ Les Misérables _ novel as he quietly sang along. No one noticed the fond looks Hotch would shoot his way, or how their hands would lace together under the table whenever they sat next to each other. Well, Rossi sent the occasional smirk. 

Still, the others kept pestering him. 

“Come on, Reid, you’re killing me!” Morgan grumbled, “just tell us who your girl is!”

“Yeah, who’s the  _ Cosette  _ to your  _ Marius _ ?” JJ asked. Spencer let out a snort of a laugh.

“If anything,  _ I _ would be  _ Cosette _ ,” he remarked, earning laughs from the others. The subject seemed to drop but from under the table a hand affectionately squeezed his knee. 

Their one-year anniversary was coming up in just a few weeks and Spencer and Hotch had agreed that it was time to tell the team. Both feared rejection, what with Spencer being Hotch’s subordinate and also ten years younger, but the more rational parts of their minds knew that their team loved them and would stay by their side. They deserved one another, having been through so much in their lives already. They took the happiness they felt with one another in stride and cherished it. 

If the pair had already begun thinking of a future together, neither was any the wiser. 

Their case was a grizzly one. Adolescents being kidnapped from their homes at night with very little if any evidence left behind. Each would show up dead a month later in different parts of the nearby forests. “Loserville, Nothingtown”, as many of the young locals called the place they lived, had lost too many people already. Cases involving children always hit differently for everyone, but for Hotch and Spencer it hurt a lot. Hotch could only ever see Jack in the places of those young kids, whereas quite often Spencer just saw himself, young and afraid, having been abandoned too. Everyone had been working around the clock but thanks to Spencer’s geographical profile they had managed to narrow the search for the UnSub down to four barns on the outskirts of the forest in question. Unfortunately, the forest was nearly three times the size of Central Park and the barns were on the furthest corners. Not ideal at all. Everyone had split up with Spencer and Hotch taking one of the smaller barns to the south of the forest. It was all hands on deck and as the pair climbed out of the car, both regretted not wearing wellington boots as the mud squelched beneath their feet. 

“Does it rain often here this time of year?” Hotch asked Spencer, reaching for the torch he always kept on him as they walked towards the barn. 

“Actually yes. It’s too warm in this area of the state for snow to properly form in the winter and yet still gets cold enough that it rains heavily. We’re actually at the beginning of what they call the ‘rainy season’ right now,” Spencer explained as they reached the barn door. 

“The UnSub must be incredibly patient, then,” Hotch mused, “with all the mud around you would think there would have been prints on the floors of the childrens’ bedrooms.”

With their weapons drawn, the two creeped inside the barn, checking every corner with care just in case someone was lurking in the dark. It was empty. There was no power to the building, nothing inside except for a few bales of hay which seemed to have started composting, and the floor inside was no better as puddles formed from the holes in the roof. It was just one, big, empty square. Both agents sighed, holstering their weapons. Hotch called their findings in to the team as Spencer took a look around, torch light hovering over every nook and cranny of the walls in search for something, anything, that would help them find the children still missing. Something seemed off, yet the genius couldn’t put his mind on exactly what. As he looked around, thoughts bouncing around, light hums escaped his lips. 

“Hotch, do we still have the tape measure in the evidence kit?” Spencer asked. 

“Yeah, what are you thinking?” Hotch replied. 

“Well, the inside of the barn looks significantly smaller than the outside did, but only on one side,” he told him. Hotch looked at the walls of the barn. 

“I’ll go get it,” he offered. Spencer knelt down by the wall, feeling around the edges for a possible latch or opening he had missed. There didn’t seem to be anything, but the walls were lined with panels so he checked every one of them. One moved. Not by much, but it opened just enough that Spencer could possibly slip through if he took his vest off. Shedding the protective armour, Spencer tried to peer inside with his torch. A Ladder. 

“Hey, Hotch! I-” Spencer began, leaning back out of the gap and turning around only to be met with a shotgun to the face. Acting on instinct, he knocked the barrel out of his eye line with his forearm, taking a swing at the assailant, but he missed. The person had dodged and kicked him, making the genius stumble forwards and almost lose his footing. Spencer reached for his gun but before he could spin around, a gunshot went off. 

Spencer hit the floor. 


	3. Chapter 3

Hotch heard the gunshot and instinctively reached for his gun. “Reid!” He called out, running towards the barn and stepping inside, finding it empty except for the unmoving form of the BAU’s resident genius on the ground. Once he was sure the barn was empty, Hotch ran to Spencer’s side, hand immediately going to his neck to check for a pulse. It was still there. “Spencer?” he said, gathering the smaller man into his arms until his curly head was resting on the crook of his elbow, eyes fluttering open. 

“‘Otch…” he mumbled, eyes glassy and unfocused. Hotch reached up and pressed a button on his walkie talkie. 

“We have an agent down, I repeat, we have an agent down, I need an ambulance at my location immediately!” he ordered, before turning his attention back to Spencer. One hand went to the wound in his abdomen, the one weeping blood all over the barn floor, pressing down as much as he could whilst trying not to cause any more pain than necessary. Spencer groaned and Hotch winced. “Hang in there, Spencer,” he told him, “help is coming.” 

“‘e jumped me… was hidin’” Spencer coughed and hissed in pain. Hotch shushed his cries. 

“Just hold on, honey,” he whispered. A voice crackled through the radio. 

_ “Hotch, do you read? What happened?!” _ It was Rossi. Hotch reached for his radio again. 

“The UnSub got the jump on Spencer, shot him in the abdomen,” Hotch hastily explained. 

_ “We’re on our way; keep the line open,” _ Rossi ordered. Hotch did as he was told, attention turning back to Spencer. There was blood all over his slacks and Spencer’s shirt was stained, and it made Hotch want to throw up. He couldn’t lose him. 

Not like Haley. 

Something lightly fell onto Hotch’s head. Then again. And again. It was raining; the hole in the ceiling that was providing the smallest amount of moonlight to the pair allowed the rain to fall over them. Hotch didn’t care. It hid his tears as he kept urging Spencer to hang on. The genius kept trying to speak but Hotch kept shushing him, telling him to save his strength. Whatever he had to say, he could say when he was all healed up. Perhaps the rain would wash the blood away. 

“A-Aaron I…” Spencer coughed again, this time red fell down from his lips. Hotch wished he had a free hand to wipe it away, but all he could do was watch as Spencer choked out a laugh and looked up at the barn roof, “I-I f-feel like E-Eponine… b-behind the b-barricade...” he stuttered. Hotch shook his head. 

“No, don’t say that, Spencer, you’re gonna be okay,” he cried, holding the man he loved tighter as he started whispering about flowers. A shaky hand cupped his cheek and Hotch leaned into it, pressing a kiss to the palm. Spencer was smiling. 

“ _ D-don't you fret, M'sieur Marius… _ ” Spencer’s words were too soft, too gentle. Hotch sobbed, “ _ I don't feel any pain… a-a little f-fall of rain c-can hardly... h-hurt me now… _ ” he smiled, that sad smile no one ever wanted to see on the face of a loved one, “y _ ou're h-here, t-that's all I need t-to know… a-and you will k-keep me safe, a-and you will k-keep me close… a-and rain will make the f-flowers grow… _ ”

Hotch shook his head, not caring about the tears that fell onto Spencer’s shirt or the rain that dripped down from where it had clung to his hair. “ _ But you will live, 'Ponine - dear God above, _ ” he continued, voice rough as he tried not to sob again, “ _ if I could close your wounds with words of love- _ ”

“ _ j-just hold me now, a-and let it be… _ ” Spencer whispered, but Hotch was still shaking his head, rocking back and forth. He couldn’t lose him. “ _ S-shelter me, c-comfort me… _ ”

Hotch had forgotten that the walkie talkie line was still open. The team just held back their own tears as they listened to their boss hold their dying friend, the two singing together. “ _ So don't you fret, M'sieur Marius, I don't feel any pain. A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now... _ ”

“ _ I’m here _ ,” Hotch said, nodding. He wasn’t sure who he was reassuring, Spencer of himself, but the young man’s eyes were drooping and it made Hotch’s stomach drop. 

“ _ T-that's all I need to know… _ ” Spencer mumbled, his hand beginning to fall. Without taking his eyes from Spencer’s, Hotch grabbed the man’s hand in his blood-covered one, squeezing it tightly. 

_ “A-and you will k-keep me safe… a-and you will k-keep me close…” _

_ “And I will stay with you ‘til you are sleeping…” _

_ “A-and rain…”  _ Spencer stuttered, eyes falling shut,  _ “w-will make the flowers…” _

_ “Will make the flowers… grow…” _ Spencer went limp in Hotch’s arms. 

Hotch let out a gut-wrenching scream. 

Suddenly, hands were on him, trying to pull him away but he fought back, holding Spencer tighter until the younger agent was all but ripped from his arms. He struggled against whoever was holding him back but they were too strong, shushing lightly in his ear and holding him flush against a kevlar vest until the fight left him and all Hotch could do was sob. 


	4. Chapter 4

He looked too small in that hospital bed. Blanket pulled up to his armpits, arms laid by his side, nasal cannula across his upper lip. Wires coming out of everywhere. His hair had lost its bounce as the days passed, turning greasy. There was not a scratch on his face or neck, but underneath those covers gauze and bandages hid a nasty amount of stitches from a nearly twelve-hour long surgery. They had to remove half of his liver. Some of his ribs broke and had to be pieced back together. One piece had nearly impaled his lung. 

Spencer Reid would survive, but only if he woke up. 

It had been a week and the team were still tracking down the UnSub, but they had rescued the children who had been locked up under the barn. Hotch knew he should be helping, knew he should be leading his team, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the chair at Spencer’s bedside. He couldn’t justify not being there if - no, _when_ he woke up. Instead, he stayed, only leaving the room when the doctors or nurses came to check up on him. The others stopped by whenever they had the chance, bringing updates and food, and watching over Spencer for long enough for Hotch to go back to the hotel and shower/try and get some sleep. He never could. 

He never let go of Spencer’s hand, thumb tracing the spot where his bracelet would normally be around his wrist. That sat in Hotch’s pocket now, until Spencer woke up and he could return it. It didn’t feel right, not seeing the accessory where it was meant to be. No, it certainly wasn’t right. 

The door to the ICU opened, and it was Rossi who walked in. He had two cups of coffee in his hands and a plastic bag looped in his fingers. “How’s he doing?” He asked. 

“Not much better,” Hotch admitted, accepting the cup he was handed, “the doctor’s say there’s nothing else they can do until he wakes up.” Rossi took a sandwich out of the bag and set it on the table next to the bed. He also placed a “Get Well Soon” card down. 

“We caught the bastard,” Rossi informed Hotch, moving to stand just behind the Unit Chief, “the team is finishing up with the paperwork and then they’re gonna come over. Strauss wants us home by the end of the week if we can.” Hotch huffed. Rossi put a hand on his shoulder. 

“I can’t lose him, Dave,” Hotch admitted. 

“And you won’t,” Rossi reassured, “he’s gonna wake up, and the two of you are going to take at least a week off work to be together with Jack as soon as he’s out of the hospital and allowed to go home.” Hotch didn’t respond. Rossi sighed. The next thing Hotch knew, Rossi was at eye level with him, kneeling on the floor by the chair. 

“You listen to me, Aaron,” Dave began, getting Hotch’s full attention, “we all heard you through the comms on our way to that barn. Spencer will pull through, and the two of you are gonna grow old and happy together in a nice little house with a white picket fence and the two-point-five kids, the whole shebang,” for the first time in days, Hotch smiled. 

“God, I hope so.”

“Hey, the kid’s never gonna leave you behind, he’s too stubborn.” With a groan, Rossi stood back up and grumbled about how he was “getting too old for that shit”, and explained that he was going to step outside and call the team to see how things were going. Before he left, Dave pressed a kiss to Spencer’s forehead and brushed a few stray strands of hair away. Then, he slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him. Hotch watched him leave. 

“... Do you really wanna grow old with me?” Hotch snapped his head back to Spencer, whose eyes had peeked open. With a faint smile, the man weakly squeezed Hotch’s hand. 

Hotch was up from his seat in seconds, leaning forward until their lips met. Those few seconds felt like an eternity before they broke apart, foreheads resting against each other. 

“I thought I lost you,” Hotch breathed out. A hand caressed his cheek. 

“But you didn’t, I’m right here,” Spencer said, his voice rough and scratchy. Hotch reluctantly pulled away and grabbed the cup of water, helping Spencer to take small sips through the straw. It seemed to do the trick. Spencer tried to sit up but Hotch just lightly pushed him back down. 

“Please don’t,” he begged, sitting back down in the chair, “you had surgery and have a lot of stitches in your side.” Spencer relented and stayed down, but he started scratching at his IV. “No narcotics,” Hotch informed before the question could be asked, “just a very mild pain killer. Nothing risky.” At that, Spencer seemed to relax. Their hands found one another’s again. 

“Why are you crying?” Spencer asked him. Hotch held back a sob. 

“I held you in my arms as you were dying, Spencer! They had to remove half of your liver!” he exclaimed, but all the fight seemed to escape him as he slumped forward and buried his face in Spencer’s good side. A hand immediately went to his hair, rubbing gentle circles. “You can never scare me like that again.” 

“You know I can’t promise that, Aaron,” Spencer whispered. Hotch huffed. 

“I know, but I can dream.” Hotch sat upright again, rubbing a hand down his face and hastily wiping the tears away as the door opened. In walked the doctor. 

“Dr. Reid! You’re awake,” the woman smiled brightly and walked to the end of the bed, picking up Spencer’s chart and taking a glance, “you had us all worried, but it’s good to see you up.” The doctor spent a few minutes checking Spencer over, inspecting the stitches and bandages and some of his vitals before explaining how he would be staying in the hospital until the end of the week at the very least. “Now, normally I would only allow one visitor in the ICU at a time, but there are a lot of very worried people out there, so I’ll let them all come in just this once.”

The rest of the team piled in as soon as the doctor left. JJ was straight to Spencer’s side, leaning close for the gentlest hug possible and giving him a peck on the cheek. Morgan, Prentiss and Rossi all followed suit, depositing gifts on the bedside table including a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a pot of Jello with a spoon.

“How are you feeling?” JJ asked. Spencer shrugged as best as he could. 

“I’ve been better, but I’ve also been a lot worse,” he responded honestly. 

“You feel alright for a phone call?” Morgan piped up. He had his phone to his ear and the loud shrills of Penelope Garcis could be heard on the other end. Spencer smiled and nodded. Morgan put the phone on loudspeaker, and everyone instantly regretted it. 

_“Spencer William Reid, I swear to whatever Deity is listening, I have half a mind to jump on the next flight out there! As happy as I am for you, and I REALLY am, how DARE I be the last to know you’re dating everyone’s favourite Wonder Boss and how DARE it be after you nearly die from a shotgun to the abdomen! Still, I am super excited for you both and I better hear all the gossip as soon as you’re all back in DC!”_ Garcia’s rush of words echoed loudly around the room and everyone couldn’t help but laugh. Hotch was smiling too. 

“I swear, Garcia, we had plans to tell everyone soon,” Spencer replied, “it’s nearly our one year anniversary and we wanted to tell you before then.” Hotch’s smile disappeared. 

“Actually, our anniversary was two days ago,” he admitted. Spencer’s face fell. 

“What? No! I had big plans and everything.” 

“That’s alright, we can do something when you’re out of the hospital,” Hotch offered, reaching to stroke Spencer’s cheek, “we could even bring Jack and make a day out of it, just the three of us.” That seemed to cheer Spencer up. 

The pair of them missed the fond looks the others were giving one another; the way Emily pressed a hand over her heart like it was the most heart-warming thing she had ever heard. It was rare that Hotch would show any sort of emotion when around the team, at least when they were all working. Seeing him so caring, so vulnerable, and smiling was a sight to behold. 

The team sat there for hours talking, about the case, about each other. No one wanted to leave, but Spencer started to yawn and everyone agreed that he needed to get some sleep. They all said their goodbyes and promised to be back the next day with more Jello, and one by one the team left Spencer and Hotch alone. Hotch kept talking until he was sure Spencer was asleep, to which he leant forward and kissed his forehead before reaching into his pocket. As gently as he could, he loosened the cord and slipped Spencer’s bracelet back into place, the familiar words of “ _One Day More_ ” shining in the bright hospital lights. 

“I love you,” Hotch whispered, settling down into the chair to rest himself. He almost missed the “I love you too” Spencer whispered back. 

Outside, it was raining again. 

The flowers were growing in their planters. 


End file.
